Moving On
by Spirit of the Skies
Summary: An old member of the fellowship must deal with Legolas's unexpected death, especially since he witnessed the death. Now, the thoughts are written in this journal. I will continue if you all like it. Rated for angsty thoughts and character death. Finished
1. Chapter 1

**_Moving On_**

**Summary: This is possibly going to be continued. It's a... whichacallit about Legolas's death- I know he went to the Gray Haven's but this is a story about what I think could've, or even should've, happened. It's from a cool POV, which you will find out later in this story. It's also a journal, of the character whose POV it's in. Please review, if enough of you like it I might continue it but I could just leave it as a one-shot. **

**Setting: Mirkwood**

In a second it all ended.

My friend, a friend I had denied being close to since the day we began our journey, was dying.

'Sometimes there's more then one way to get through a mountian.' I quoted in my mind. Someone, most likely my older brother, had said that to me once.

Now this mountain is coming down on top of me. My closest friend, who I had denied the right of my open friendship because of his race, was taking his final breaths. For the first time, I allowed a tear to slowly roll down my cheek.

"Are you crying?" He asked me. I couldn't lie, but I couldn't find the breath to answer. His soft hand moved up and brushed the tear away. He started to tell me something I'll never forget.

"Remember the time we were attacked in the mines? How we were surrounded by thousands of beasts armed to the teeth with knives and swords? Remember how the hobbits all grabbed their swords and stood ready to fight, alongside you and I and the others? It wasn't their courage that brought my own bravery to life. It wasn't their willingness to die hundreds of stories below the mountian's peak. It wasn't their friendship that had caused me to go down into the mines in the first place. It wasn't Gandulf's wisedom or anyones strength either. It wasn't Boromirs arrogance that made me strive to be my best.

"It was you. You caused me to look inside myself, see how twisted this earth had become because of a silly myth that all the races of the universe couldn't get along. You made me see a better road, one to peace. In the mines I trusted your knowledge more then my own or anyone elses. It was you who caused me to continue the fight at Mordors front door. You, your the one who taught me my most important lesson- that it doesn't matter who you are or who anyone else is. You can still learn from one another."

I was by now choked on tears. He looked me straight in the eye and went on.

"Remember the time we were fighting at Helms Deep? How we were ought numbered ten-thousand to three hundred? Remember how boys only of twleve years took up their swords and fought alongside us? It wasn't their valor that caused me to stand up and fight. It wasn't Theodens determination that kept me fighting. It wasn't Haldir's aid that gave me hope. It wasn't the sight of the dead that made me worthy to still be alive. It was you who gave me the worthiness.

"How you made us see the laughter in life in the face of death. I continued to laugh throughout the battle. I continued to rejoice as each orc was slain. I continued even when I failed to place the arrow in the orc that blew up the wall- nearly killing you. I continued because you'd taught me that going out laughing, is better then going out crying for those who'd given their lives defending Rohan. Going out laughing, is better then going out as a fool by not trying my best. Going out laughing is better..."

Legolas's face turned into a smile. He started to laugh, coughing and wincing from the strain. I could hardly see anything funny to laugh about. He eventually caught his breath enough to tell me. "Going out laughing is better then sitting their as sour-faced as you."

Those were his last words to me. His head sank to one side and his chest went still. The hand I had been holding when cold. I just sat there and cried. I don't know how long I sat beside his body. It was several days before a search party found us. I was near-death myself from not eating.

I continued to cry, I could hardly go a moment without crying. I laid in bed for days and just sobbed. When I was tired from crying I slept. I'd wake up in the middle of the night and cry myself back to sleep, or I'd have nightmares and wake up crying. I don't know how long I did that either.

I couldn't find anything to do. The elves were kind to me, since they knew me and knew Legolas's death wasn't my fault. I told them what happened, about how his horse had slipped on the wet leaves. About how Legolas was three times caught under the rolling horse as they tumbled down the slope. About how I had been walking alongside Legolas. If I hadn't choosen to walk, I could be with him now, where ever the elf is. But I had decided to walk. I liked the ground better anyways. I didn't tell them how it was me, not a rock, that killed the horse. I didn't tell them that it was me, not the Prince who'd come up with the idea of going out on the rainy day. It had rained every day since Legolas's death.

I was in denial. I couldn't have seen that. I'm dreaming. In the night, I'm told, I'd call out to Legolas and couldn't be silenced until I was drugged into sleep. I would lie there without eating until food was forced down my throat.

One time there was a knock at the door. I knew it was someone with food, and I would be again forced into eating. I pretended to sleep. Whoever it was, opened the door anyway. I heard footsteps crossing the stone floor to my bed. I felt a hand on my forhead. Then I felt a cloak being laid over me.

I opened my eyes. The relief on the mans face surprised me almost as much as his prescence. I sat up. "What are you doing here?" I asked in amazment.

"Well lets see, I'm paying my respects to Legolas, whom by the way _was_ my friend tooI'm looking after you, and visiting Elladan and Elrohir, since their here as well."

"But how did you get here?" My mind had simply left me. I seemed unable to think through anything.

"You sure you didn't fall as well?" He asked me.

In truth, I had fallen. Upon seeing Legolas at the bottom moaning, I had stepped out to go help him, slipping on the leaves. But I had rolled, while Legolas's body was crushed by the weight of the horse. I didn't say anything.

"Gimli..." Aragorn started. He seemed to gather his words, which I should actually call a speech, together.

"I know you and Legolas were close Gimli, as a matter of fact, from what I here of your eating and sleeping habits of late, you're probaly closer then you think, however, putting yourself in this position won't help. Gimli, don't you think I need a friend? I've lost Legolas, don't let me lose you too. We've done to much together you old battler. You were the humor of our fellowship adventure." His words reminded my of Legolas, and I started to tear again. "Besides, what would Legolas say if he were here? He'd probably knock you into next season for your behavor."

His words started making sense. "Gimli, of all the qualities I like about you, your stubborness and humor are my favorites. However, I will destroy your stubborness, if I have to, to get your humor back."

I sighed. Aragorn was making a lot of sense. He was throwing everything at me, every possible explanation of why I should start to move on. On top of that, he added a threat, and knowing the King of Gondor as I do, I knew he'd carry out his threat. I looked at him. He raised his eyebrow, as if waiting for something. I knew I should speak. I just didn't know what to say.

"Your a better encourager then these other elves. Best one I've heard so far." I said, with a completely straight face and with a completely serious attitude. He burst out laughing. I watched him laugh, remembering what Legolas had said.

Aragorn did persuade me to eat. Then he tossed me an empty booklet. I looked at him, puzzled. "Write your feelings down." He told me. "It helps."

So, now I'm doing as I'm told by a king of a land I don't even live in! I suppose it's only lucky I know how to write. My mother always thought education was important and made me learn my letters. The good thing is, only another dwarf.. or Gandulf, can read my writing. I only hope Legolas can take my thoughts of these words, and hear how I feel.

I am tired, for I've been writing for close to a whole day. I will retire now, since Aragorns forcing me to get back on a regular sleep-schedule. That man is very bossy, I'd hate to actually be one of his subjects.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Moving On_**

**Summary: This is possibly going to be continued. It's a... whichacallit about Legolas's death- I know he went to the Gray Haven's but this is a story about what I think could've, or even should've, happened. It's from a cool POV, which you will find out later in this story. It's also a journal, of the character whose POV it's in. Please review, if enough of you like it I might continue it but I could just leave it as a one-shot. **

**Setting: Mirkwood**

I finally found time to write. I should probably mention it's been a week since I entered my first words into this journal, and the story of my beloved friends death. To say that the pain is beginning to heal would be a complete and utter lie.

I suppose I should be happy that I have a good friend to share the grief with. Aragorn is not like other men, but then I didn't trek across all of Middle Earth with them, as I did with Aragorn and Legolas. It pains me to write his name, but I've finally found a title for this journal, which is in elven, in his honor. The title is,_ la wentra lye inarn _(la'**went**'tra'**lie**'in'arn'). I'm told it means 'tell us the tale' in elven. I like the elven speech for some reason, maybe I've been around it too long.

I guess I should write about another part of my life. After our venture through Moria, I realized my family must be dead. What I didn't know is that my older brother hadn't been in Moria at the time of the attack. He had been scounting a tunnel on another mountian, trying to determine whether it did or could connect to Moria. Goslin, my brother, made a new home for the score of survivors he had with him, hoping to make a mine out of the new tunnel.

I met up with him after hearing word from Elrond, who'd been sent word of Gorlin's escape to attract other dwarves to the new mine, which is called Balin, in honor of the old Lord of Moria. I went to him and we exchanged stories. However, Goslin dispised the fact I had traveled with an elf, and I kept it a secret that Legolas and I were friends.

Goslin and I gradually drifted. I finally got sick of it and left the mountians. I was given refuge by the remaining elves of Lorien. I questioned one of them why the remaining Rivendell Elves and all the others remaining didn't join together. He told me that once before, the Elves had been united like that, and under mysterious circumstances they'd been all but wiped out. So, to preserve their race, they'd split. He told me the remander would keep split for as long as possible and preserve their race.

From there I was helped to Mirkwood, and I cannot tell you of how I was blessed. Since Legolas was the prince, I found myself being treated like a royal guest, but then again, I was wasn't I? Legolas and I would have contests of aim between my ax and his bow, and he'd often study my language while I went over his. We ended up speaking a mixed language of Elven and Dwarvish and we named it Elwish, and spoke it just to annoy the elves that were nearby.

Legolas and I gradually grew bored one day as it rain constantly. I was on my third cup of wine and in an adventurous mood. "Why don't we go out for a walk?"

"It's dangerous with the wet leaves, what if we slip?" Legolas asked me.

"Then ride, your horse is fabled to be as surefooted as you." I said.

"I don't know..." Legolas said.

I insisted. How much I regret that.

We were walking carefully, on what was probably the safest path we could've taken. Then...

I couldn't write for the fresh wave of tears. I'm sorry. I seem to have los my train of thought... I remember having something important to share. Ah well... I suppose anyone reading this will think I'm a fool, writing like I'm speaking. Aragorn and I have decided to return to Gondor where he says I can be of service to him. He hasn't explained any further.

I must be getting old. I can't keep my eyes open. Please accept my apologizes as I go to bed...


End file.
